


Completely

by Lady Clytemnestra (Lady_Clytemnestra)



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Delusion, F/M, Family, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-09 12:59:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 17,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Clytemnestra/pseuds/Lady%20Clytemnestra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chakotay comes to her in the middle of the night. They're trying to hack it in an unsure world. A crisis strikes the family they know, and it threatens to break them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tonight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PCBW](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PCBW/gifts).



His lips are against my neck, nibbling, his tongue exploring the flesh on that oh so sensitive place just behind my ear. The words die on my lips, my question forgotten, as he guides me backwards out of the doorframe. The door hisses shut. He inhales deeply, his hands on my hips, caressing them through the satin peach nightgown. He speaks then, his breath warming that spot on my neck and it shoots straight to my core, frightening, dangerous, wonderful.  
  
"Spirits, Kathryn."  
  
My hands find his hair, and it takes every ounce of will that I have to stop this, stop him, if only for a moment. I pull his head up and his eyes meet mine, dark as the void that almost claimed my soul. His eyes are those of a man intent on what he is about to do, the eyes of a man that knows he has crossed a line and would glady take the consequences. The eyes of a man with a wounded heart on the edge of his own destruction.   
  
"Chakotay..." My voice is husky, the tears I have been fighting close to the surface. He traces my bottom lip with the tip of his thumb, his touch gentle. I take his hand in mine and rest both on my shoulder before I continue. He is squeezing my hip, bracing himself for the reason, the excuse, the protocol that will shut him out, and I know that if I refuse him now, I will lose him forever. The tears spill over, burning tracks down my cheeks and choking me. All that I manage is a small whimper. His grip on my hip tightens slightly, then he reclaims his hand from mine and cups my cheek, brushing the tears away with that same thumb.  
  
"Look at me," he whispers, and I force my eyes to meet his again.   
  
His voice is firm, but warm and loving, like his hand on my hip, and somehow it makes me cry harder. He searches my eyes and I can only imagine what he reads. He knows me well, better than Mark or Justin ever could have, and I know he sees the love I feel for him, mixed with my fear, my pain and doubts. I try to turn away, shame welling up in me for being such a coward, for hurting him for so long, but he doesn't let me go.   
  
"Do you want me to leave?"  
  
I am sobbing now, shaking. My voice has failed me. He's not just asking about this moment. I clutch his nightshirt in my hands, shake my head. He pulls me closer, enveloping me in his arms. His hand is stroking my hair, and I can tell he is relieved.  
  
When I am finished crying, he replicates a cup of coffee for me. I take the cup from him and put it down on my coffee table. I reach for his hand again and return it to my hip, my eyes on his lips. He leans forward and presses them to mine, the fire building in the pit of my stomach again. I wrap an arm around his neck, deepening our kiss, and he pulls my body flush against his. He trails his lips across my cheek and down my throat, then around to that spot on my neck again. He nips it with his teeth and I can't help the groan that escapes me. I can feel his need, his erection pressing against my stomach as his hand slides over the satin of my nightgown once more.   
  
"Chakotay..."   
  
He slides his hand down my thigh and lifts my leg, his hand coming to rest at the back of my knee and suddenly he has me pressed against the bulkhead. His hands, those beautiful calloused hands, are at my breasts, then his mouth captures a nipple through the satin gown. I pull at his nightshirt and he helps me take it off of him, the garment coming up over his head and then falling to the floor. My hands explore his chest, every scar, every muscle, every shadow commited to memory. I'm kissing his abdomen, his muscles rippling with pleasure beneath my lips. He whispers my name and it's like a prayer, soft and reverent. He pulls me back up, pinning me against the wall and claims my mouth with his again. His hand grazes my flesh as he slides the nightgown further up my thigh, sending a shiver down my spine. His fingertips brush my center through the fabric of my panties and I gasp, breaking our kiss. I tuck my hand into the waistband of his pajama pants at his back, the muscles in his behind firm and tensed. He takes my hand away from there, puts it with the other at the back of his neck, and drops his pants. All the breath leaves my body. My dreams did not do him justice. The girth of his erection alone leaves me aching. His hands are at my waist again and my panties join his shirt on the floor.  
  
"Hold on to me."  
  
Both hands on my thighs, he lifts me, all of my weight in his strong, sure grip. He locks eyes with me as he slides into me slowly, gently. He stops when I grit my teeth, lets me adjust. I wrap both legs around his waist and wriggle my hips slightly, and he draws back partway to thrust into me carefully three times before burying himself in me to the hilt, his name leaving my throat in a loud moan. He tries to be gentle, to make it last, but it has been so long for the both of us, the tension and desire between us for years. We climb quickly, my heels digging into his back, my nails biting his shoulders. The satin on my skin is maddening. I'm mewing, my breath coming in gasps, and then one of his hands is against the wall by my head and he buries his face in my neck again, biting me, marking me. His chest is crushed against my breasts, the nightgown rasping over my tender nipples. We knock something over in our passion, a telescope, I think, but I could care less. God help me, this man is going to be the death of me! He is no longer capable of holding back and with every thrust my back hits the bulkhead. All sense of time and space fall away and there is only an all-consuming electricity. He calls my name, his movements are less controlled, and then his hand is on my breast again. My inner muscles clench around him and we explode together; the world disappears around me as I cling to him for dear life. His name on my lips, his scent in my nose, his voice in my ears, I break in that moment. My barriers crumble and I am his, completely, irrevocably.   
  


* * *

  
  
  
His arms are shaking. I put one of my feet on the floor and he rests his head on my chest. I lay my hand over it protectively, letting him regain his strength.  
  
"Kathryn," he murmurs.  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"We broke your globe."  
  
I look at the thing we knocked over. He's right. It's split right along the equator. I smile. The symbolism of it makes me chuckle. He looks up at me, a questioning look in his eyes.  
  
It's too perfect. I look down at him, a smirk on my face. "You rocked my world."  
  
He snorts against my breast, then stands. I put my other leg down, wincing. His face changes quickly, from a satisfied look to one of deep remorse.  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
I look at him gently.   
  
"I'm not. I'm just not as young as I used to be."  
  
He pulls his pants up, puts one of my arms over his shoulder and tucks his arm behind my knees. He carries me to the bedroom and lays me on the bed, takes my nightgown off of me.  
  
"Roll onto your stomach."  
  
I oblige and his hands begin working at the muscles in my shoulders.   
  
I don't think I ever realized just how powerful his muscles are. It feels like heaven, lying here with him over me, those magic hands kneading my overworked body. He moves down my arms to my hands, then up them again to my back. By the time he reaches my calves, I'm floating. He rolls me over and begins to massage my feet, working his way up my body until he reaches the meeting of my thighs. He kisses my belly, then lowers his mouth to my left breast and circles the nipple with the tip of his tongue. He palms the other breast, then captures the left nipple in his mouth, worries it with his tongue and teeth, his fingers mirroring his ministrations on the other nipple. My hand is in his hair, holding his head to my breast. He suckles harder and my back arches involuntarily. My breath is coming in gasps. He moves to the other breast, his lips, tongue and teeth repeating their prior performance. When he slips two fingers inside me, my hips buck against his hand. He uses his thumb, that wonderous thumb, to circle my swollen bud, bringing me to the brink. And he stops, extracts his fingers, and sits up.   
  
"Please..." It comes out as a whimper. "Oh..."  
  
A wicked grin comes across his face.   
  
"What?"  
  
I try to pull him toward me, but he won't budge.   
  
"Don't tease," I reprimand, panting.  
  
The grin grows wider. He brushes my hair back from my face and then pinches one of my nipples, making me moan.  
  
"No uniform, no orders," he taunts.  
  
I sit up, notice his erection straining against his pants. Fine. Two can play at this game. I stroke him through the material and he gasps. It's my turn to grin wickedly.  
  
"Turnabout's fair play, Chakotay."  
  
He groans, but pulls back. I think I missed something.  
  
"Where are you going?" I ask.  
  
He gets his shirt and my panties from the floor, and winks at me.   
  
"I'll see you on the bridge," he replies, puts his shirt on and tosses my underwear into the bedroom, then walks out the door.


	2. Tomorrow

I hate mornings. After a cold shower and six cups of coffee, I step off the turbolift to find him sitting in his chair.  
  
"Captain on the bridge," Harry announces from his post.   
  
I nod to him and to Tuvok. Chakotay smiles at me. I want to be angry with him still, but those dimples...   
  
"Good morning, Captain," he greets me.  
  
I smile quickly, then sit down. He leans over to speak to me. I turn in my chair.  
  
"How did your morning go?"  
  
You know damn well how it went, you smug little--  
  
"Fine. And yours?"  
  
Those dimples again.  
  
"Very well, thank you for asking."  
  
And then he sneaks a wink at me. It's all I can do not to glare at him. I turn again to face the conn. It's going to be a long day.  
  


* * *

  
Five hours later, he's in my ready room with me. I'm trying not to notice the way he's burning a hole in me with those mesmerizing eyes of his. We're sitting on the couch together, our lunch finished, going over reports. Or pretending to, at least. He's moved closer now. His hand is on my thigh, and he caresses my cheek with the backs of his fingers. It's a small thing, but it's something I can see he's wanted to do for years. I let go of my PADD, all pretense lost, and he kisses me softly, his hands in my hair.   
  
"Kim to the Captain."  
  
Chakotay frees my lips and rests his forehead against mine for a moment before standing.  
  
I tap my combadge.  
  
"Go ahead, Harry."  
  
"Just wanted to alert you to a nebula we've found. It's showing up on long range scanners. I'm not reading any deuterium deposits or omichron particles, but I am picking up some interesting stellar phenomenon."  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Kim. Keep monitoring it and I'll take a look at it when I get a chance."  
  
"Aye, Captain."  
  
"Janeway out." I sever the communication and turn back to Chakotay, smiling. "Where were we?"  
  
  



	3. Silver Bands

The nebula is beautiful. Meteorite particles create bands of silver that are surrounded by clouds of blues and purples. A nearby star gleams in a velvet pool of black, and I am struck by the beauty of it all. Chakotay is standing behind me in the Delta Flyer, his arms wrapped around my waist as we watch the colors swim in front of us. He presses a kiss to the shell of my ear.   
  
"You know, there's an ancient folktale of my people about a beautiful warrior," he murmurs.  
  
"Let me guess-- she saved an angry warrior in another folktale," I retort, smiling.  
  
"Yes," he replies, and I can feel him smile against my hair. "Sounds like you know a lot about this beautiful warrior. Maybe you should tell me a story about her."  
  
I think for a moment, watching the bands of silver chase clouds of indigo.  
  
"The beautiful warrior lived with the angry warrior for many years," I begin. "They spent almost every day together. She knew that he loved her, and knew that she loved him." My voice catches in my throat. "But she was afraid." I can feel a tear run down my cheek. "She was afraid that if she let herself love him, she would be sentencing both their tribes to death. She was afraid that she would lose her ability to lead their people home." His embrace tightens. "She was afraid..." I'm not sure I want to voice my fear now; voicing it can make it real. If I voice it I have to face it. If I don't, it may consume me. "She was afraid of loving him." He turns me to face him and holds me tightly, my face buried against his chest.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
In retrospect, making love on the floor of the Delta Flyer was not my brightest idea. God, my back is killing me. And, as much as I love him, Chakotay is crushing my lungs. I tap his shoulder to get his attention because I can't breathe, but he doesn't respond. Is he unconscious? No, he's awake. He's humming. I push at him a little more insistently, and he gets the message. He rolls to the side as an alarm sounds from the conn. I take a deep breath and get to my feet, check the console.  
  
"What is it?" he asks, sleepily.  
  
"There's a ship approaching. It's coming in fast." I tap a few keys, looking for more information. "It'll be here in about a half hour."  
  
I turn around to find my clothes, but the sight of him naked with the nebula's light playing across his bronze skin is arresting. He smiles and holds an arm out to me. I get to my knees for the second time tonight and crawl the two feet to him, press a kiss to his lips. His hand roams over my hip to my backside, his tongue carressing my own. He sits up, never breaking the kiss, and pulls me into his lap, his hands moving to my waist. I have to get dressed. I can't indulge him. His fingers are sliding up my body, dancing over my flesh. To hell with clothes. We have a half--  
  
The Flyer rocks to the side and we both slam into the chair at the tactical console. I scramble to my feet and take the conn, no time to grab my clothes.   
  
"Something is firing at us," I announce, trying to pinpoint the source. Then I see it, but not through the sensor display. It's a ship, and their shields and weapons are powered up. The ship is massive, much bigger than Voyager. They hail us, but I'm hesitant to reply. I'm naked. I try to reach for my shirt, at the very least, but then they fire at us again and I hear Chakotay yell. He's on the floor, smoke rising from his console, and there's a burn above his eye. He's not humming now. They hail us again. I slap the control panel to open a channel.   
"This is Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship--"  
  
"Why are you in our space?" The voice is not friendly. I have to fight to keep my temper in check.  
  
"I'm sorry, we didn't realize this area of space belonged to anyone. We're just here to learn more about this nebula and observe it."  
  
"You are trespassing."  
  
I got that, thank you so much.  
  
"We'll be happy to get out of your way, just let me tend to my wounded." I lean down to check on Chakotay. His pulse is fine, he's breathing. No time to scan him.  
  
"You will leave now."  
  
They lock onto us with a tractor beam and cut communication. They're pulling the Flyer away from the nebula. At least they aren't firing at us, for now. I manage to stand as they're pulling us and I get Chakotay into the back, lay him out on the bed. I cover him with a blanket and gently kiss his cheek, then go back to the front. I pull my shirt over my head and they hail again. I open the channel and pull my pants on as I listen.  
  
"You will not return to our space."   
"Please," I reply, "we didn't know--"  
  
The shuttle rocks again and I land hard on my arm, my wrist bent at an odd angle.   
  
"You will not return to our space. This is your final warning."   
  
The ship moves away, then disappears. Not exactly the most successful First Contact. I head for the aft compartment to check on Chakotay, find him on the floor again. This time, I can't get him back up on the bed. My wrist is at the very least sprained. I leave him on his back, replicate pillows to surround him in case we meet anyone else with a claim to this space, and make my way to the front to hail Voyager.


	4. Answers

"No, it is not the same thing, and you know it." I can't believe this! I thought we had moved forward, moved on. It's been over a week since that species attacked and I've been running myself ragged trying to find out who they are, so we don't run into any other sectors of their space.   
  
"It is the same, Kathryn!" He's on his feet, in his uniform pants and shirt, his jacket over the chair. He's angry because I've been pushing myself so hard, he thinks I'm punishing myself again.   
  
"It is not the same thing." I'm growling now. I'm livid. "I made a decision in that Void, one I thought I had to make. This is different. I'm --"  
  
"You're what, Kathryn? Being the hero?"  
  
I can't believe I have to say this. I thought it was clear.  
  
"I'm the captain. I'm doing my job."  
  
"And I'm your first officer. I'm your partner!" He steps closer to me, almost toe-to-toe, and I will not be pressured. I have to tip my head back to look up at him now, but I will not step back. I know that I am right this time.   
  
"This isn't about the attack in the Flyer, is it?" I ask it because I've noticed a change lately in him. I don't mean it to sound accusatory, but it does. "Something else is bothering you."  
  
"You're damn right something else is bothering me. You haven't even approached us, as a topic, since I came to you that night. And I've been content to just give you time. Well, now I'm done waiting! I need some answers, damn it!"  
  
I'm speechless.  
  
"Answers about what?"  
  
Shock is written all over his face. He takes a half-step back.  
  
"'About what'." He runs his hand over his face. "'About what'? About this! What are we doing? What is this? What am I to you?"  
  
I don't want to talk about this. Not at three in the morning.  
  
"How can you even ask me that?"  
  
"I need to know, Kathryn." He levels me with that look of his, that look that says, "I'm not going to let this go". He's stubborn and angry, and I'm tired.  
  
"Aren't you happy?"  
  
His jaw twitches.   
  
"Of course I'm happy, but I can't live like this forever. I can't live without knowing how long this will last, how long it'll be before you shut me out again, throw protocol in my face again."  
I can't deal with this right now. I have to be on the bridge in three hours and I haven't slept in four days.   
  
"I can't--" I turn around, try to walk away, but he stops me with a hand on my arm.  
"Don't walk away from me, I need to hear you say it."  
  
"Chakotay, I'm not going to do this with you right now. I will discuss it after I've had some rest. I'm exhausted and--"  
  
His grip tightens on my bicep.  
  
"No. Now, Kathryn! I have waited over five years for this conversation. Every day, I face the risk of losing you forever. I can't face that fear alone."  
  
"Chakotay," I warn.   
  
"What am I to you?"   
  
"I don't know!" I shout it back at him, surprising myself with the answer. I honestly don't know.  
  
He eyes me, then seems to reach a conclusion. He lets my arm go and heads for the door.  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
He stops in the doorway, starts to turn to look at me, but faces the corridor again and walks away.


	5. For Us

"Captain's personal log, supplemental. This little feud with Chakotay has lasted much longer than I thought it would. We haven't spoken to one another on a personal level in almost a month. I've tried to apologize, but he won't hear it. He throws protocol in my face, shuts conversations down before they even begin. I can't help but think think that he's trying to give me a taste of my own medicine.   
  
On another note, I've learned that the species that Chakotay and I had our encounter with is called the Yelin. They own half a dozen star systems in the area, which greatly decreases our opportunities for restocking our reserves and all but eliminates the possibility of shore-leave. There is one system nearby that is not owned by the Yelin. The inhabitants are called the Ovox, and they welcome travelers from other galaxies. I'm hoping that I can convince Chakotay to join me in a tour of their art galleries. Computer, end recording." I stretch in my chair and adjust my robe, more than ready to get into the bath. I stand, but the chime to my door rings. It's probably not him, but my heart skips a beat in anticipation nonetheless.  
  
"Come in."  
  
The door hisses open and for a second I can't believe my eyes. I pull my robe tighter around me and can't help a smile. He looks like he hasn't slept in days, he's still in his boxing equipment and he's sweating, but it's him.  
  
"Chakotay."  
  
He steps into the room slowly, like he isn't sure he's welcome. I hurry to his side and he embraces me hesitantly, rubbing small slow circles on my lower back.  
  
"I've missed you."   
  
"You see me on the bridge everyday," he replies stiffly.  
  
I level him with a mock glare.  
  
"I missed being held by you. I've missed your smile, you know what I mean."  
  
He smiles then, caresses my cheek with the backs of his fingers.  
  
"I've missed you, too."  
  
I step back slightly, gesture at the replicator.   
  
"Can I get you anything? Lukewarm coffee, perhaps?"  
  
"I'm fine, thank you."  
  
"Are you sure? It's--"  
  
"Kathryn," he interjects. "I didn't come here to have coffee, I came here to find out if you made up your mind. If you know what I am to you yet."  
  
I don't know what to say. 23 days go by with nothing but the cold shoulder and he's trying to, to what, start a fight? No. I think he's trying to make peace. Problem is, I still don't know the answer to his question. How can I? To figure that out, I need to spend time with him. He's been avoiding me like the Phage. Suddenly I'm angry. This shouldn't be about him. I know he's hurting, but I'm hurting too. It should be about the both of us, what we mean to each other.  
  
"After 23 days of the cold shoulder, you want to know if I've 'made up my mind'? What about you? What do I mean to you? What does this relationship mean to you?" I back away farther, making my way across the room as I speak. "Do you have any idea how difficult this is for me? To give myself to someone completely, to be in a situation that, for once, I don't have complete control over? This is a damn hard job, Chakotay. I have you to think about, us, this crew, and their families. Our relationship doesn't end with you and me. It can't. I'm the captain of a Federation starship. I can't stop being the captain just because I want to, no matter how much I want to. This rift between us, it's been harder for me than you can imagine. I know that you're hurting. But you've got to realize how much you've hurt me! I'm not just pips and a chair, Chakotay. I'm a Goddamn human being, and you'd better be damned sure that you want this to last before you come waltzing back in here after what you did." I stop for a breath, the chair in front of me like a buffer. He remains silent. "I was honest. You asked me a question, and frankly, I still don't know the answer. But I want to find it. I need to find it. I need to know just as much as you do, but I can't do that if you avoid me. So be angry. Fine. But don't you think for one second that I don't have any investment in this, that this isn't hard for me, too."   
  
I'm shaking. He blinks a couple of times, then crosses the room and grabs my arms, covers my mouth with his in a searing kiss, one that takes me far away from Voyager, touches my soul and leaves me aching for more. His hands leave my arms and he withdraws. I'm still reeling.  
  
"Kathryn..."  
  
I don't want to hear it. Nothing he can say right now can be more important than getting his clothes off and getting him in that bed. I immediately busy my hands at his waist, grappling with the ties to remove his pants. He strokes my hair and tips my face up to his, his eyes wet with tears.  
  
"I love you," he breathes.  
  
Three words that I have known to be true for years. Words that would have fallen flat before he came to me that night. But this time, I know what to say.   
  
"And I love you."  
  
His eyes light up and he smiles at me, a smile wider than I've ever seen on him before. Then he picks me up and carries me to the bed, his eyes locked on mine. He lays me down and kisses me again, but I still want those pants on the floor. I reach for his waist only to be stopped again, this time by his hand over my wrists. He gently raises my arms over my head and lays my hands on the pillow.   
  
"Keep them there," he whispers, his eyes and smile full of mischief.   
  
I'll play along.  
  
"Every time you touched me on duty, whenever you would lay a hand on my chest, rub my shoulder, my arm, I almost lost control. Tonight, I want to make this last for you." He lowers his lips to mine in a lingering kiss and by the time he pulls away again, I'm fighting every fiber of my being just to keep my hands off him.   
  
"I want to make this last for us," he continues. His words bring tears to my eyes. I kiss him again, my heart winning out over desire, and I let him take control of the night.


	6. For Her

"Hand me that hyperspanner, Ensign." I wipe sweat off my brow before it can get into my eyes and rub my hand over my swollen belly. "Just hang on, kiddo. Just a few more hours and we'll be all done." The ensign taps my shoulder, her brown eyes concerned. I take the spanner from her. "Is something wrong?"  
  
"All due respect, ma'am, you look like you could use a break."  
  
She's not wrong, but I want to get Voyager back in the air before the day is out.   
  
"I'm almost finished here. I'll be fine." I return to my work, but then the world swims. I steady myself on the wall of the jeffries' tube, then take a deep breath.  
  
"Captain?"  
  
"I'm fine," I reassure her, then lean against the wall. "I just need a moment to--" The pain is so bad that I can't see for a second. I'm gripping the rail behind me to ground myself, and then I feel it. It's too early for labor, I'm only six months along. We both look down at my lap. It's not water. It's blood.  
  
The next several minutes are a blur for me. All I can think about is the baby. The doctor is running scans, trying to stabilize us both, and Chakotay finds my hand and hangs on like a vice. We're both scared. Another wave of pain rips through my body, an alarm sounds from the bio-bed, and the doctor shoves Chakotay out of the way.  
  
"What's happening?" My voice is hoarse.  
  
"It's not working," Tom shouts from the medical console. "We need something more."  
  
"Try to stay calm, Captain," the doctor soothes.   
  
"What's happening?" I ask again.  
  
"Still nothing," Tom calls.   
  
This time the pain is all consuming. I am sitting rigid and I can't breathe. The world is black and I can hear my heart in my ears. When I can breathe, the air leaves me in a scream. Finally the pain is lessened and I fall back onto the biobed. The sounds around me are muffled. Chakotay is calling my name, there are alarms sounding, and the doctor is still hovering. I try to open my eyes, but my body doesn't seem to want to respond. There's a sting at my neck, and sleep is calling to me.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
My hair is moving. Someone is brushing it. I open my eyes, blink a few times to let them adjust. The light is too bright. Naomi leans over and smiles.   
  
"Captain!"  
  
I manage a small smile back. The doctor and Chakotay come over and they are both smiling.   
  
"Ah! It's good to see you awake, Captain." The EMH is running another scan. Chakotay leans down to me and kisses my forehead.  
  
"How are you feeling?" he asks.  
  
"Okay. What--" I've started to sit up, but I get a bit of a headrush. I stop and the doctor lays me back down.  
  
"Take it slowly, Captain. You've been through quite a bit in the last several hours."  
  
"How long was I out?"  
  
"Almost two days," Chakotay replies.   
  
Naomi comes closer.  
  
"Is it okay if I keep brushing your hair, Captain?"  
  
I can't help but smile.  
  
"Of course."  
  
Chakotay smiles, too.  
  
"She noticed a few tangles. She wanted to make sure you and the baby were both comfortable."  
  
The baby...   
  
"Is the baby alright?"  
  
"You're both doing rather well, considering. You gave us quite a scare there for a little while, but you're both stable now. I'll need you to stay here, in Sickbay, for a while, so I can monitor you both," the doctor informs me, then steps away to give us a moment.  
  
Chakotay squeezes my hand.  
  
"You're both going to be fine, Kathryn. You and our little one."  
  
I'm so relieved that I start crying. Naomi gasps when I choke back a sob.  
  
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to--"  
  
"No, sweetheart, it's fine," I manage. I pull her close and squeeze her hand, stroke her hair. "You're doing a fantastic job. Thank you very much."  
  
She smiles at me, then goes back to my hair.  
  
Chakotay rests a hand on her little head, then turns his attention back to me.  
  
"We know what it's going to be. I could tell you, if you like."  
  
I can't believe what I'm about to say, but it comes out anyway.  
  
"I think I'd rather wait... let it be a surprise."  
  
He nods, kisses my forehead again.  
  
The doctor comes out of his office and claps his hands together.  
  
"Okay, visiting hours are over. She needs her rest! Thanks for dropping by, you don't have to go home, but you can't stay here. Well, actually, Naomi, you should go home. Your mother is waiting for you."  
  
Naomi nods and hands me the hairbrush. It's the one from my quarters.  
  
"Thanks for letting me brush your hair, Captain."  
  
"It was my pleasure. Maybe next time, you can braid it for me?"  
  
She beams.  
  
"That would be great!"  
  
"I'll see you then."   
  
She leans down and gives me a hug. I missed her. I pat her back.   
"Okay, little one. Time to go," Chakotay prompts, and she straightens and heads for the door.  
  
He smiles after her and turns back to me.  
  
"I love you, very much." He kisses my fingers.  
  
"I know you do. I love you, too."  
  
His hand covers my cheek.  
  
"If I don't get back to the bridge and tell everyone your status, we'll have a full blown mutiny on our hands."  
  
I laugh.  
  
"Well, then, you'd better get down there."  
  
"Aye, aye, Captain." He winks at me, then stands. "I'll be back to see you when my duty shift is over."  
  
"I'll be here." I can feel my eyelids getting heavy. They close before I can kiss him. I feel his lips against my forehead, and then the doors swish closed. The doctor dims the lights and I start to drift off.  
  



	7. Streak

"Nadine Rhys Janeway, you put your clothes back on, right now!" I'm sick of chasing her. Everyday, it's the same thing. I get her dressed, the second I turn around she strips and runs around our quarters stark naked. I've had enough! I reach out to grab her, but I miss and stub my toe on the bed.  
  
"Shit." I do a small assessment, decide I'm fine and the next thing I know she's out in the hallway singing, "Shit! Shit! Mommy said shit!"  
  
I take off after her, my robe sliding over my skin. I get a couple of looks from the crew, but they're just going to have to wait. I catch a glimpse of my daughter's freckled behind disappearing around the next bend. Four years old and she moves faster than I do.  
  
"Nadine! That is enough!"  
  
Of course she doesn't listen. I turn the corner and she's gone. I can't hear her giggling anymore. I stop, take a deep breath. There's no point in asking the computer where she's gone, her combadge is on her dress in our quarters. I tap the shoulder of a passing crewman.  
  
"Have you seen Nadine run past here?"  
  
He blushes slightly at the sight of me in my robe, averts his eyes.  
  
"No, ma'am."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
I take off running again, calling her name. She doesn't answer.  
  
I can't believe this! It's a ship! Where the hell could she have gone?  
  
"Captain," Seven of Nine calls. I turn around. There's Nadine, naked as the day she was born, caught in Seven's arms. "I believe you're looking for her?"  
  
I smile at her.  
  
"Thank you!"   
  
She hands Nadine to me, nods and walks away. Nadine is clinging to me like she's frightened. She knows she's in big trouble. I wrap my robe around us both and carry her down the hall to our quarters again. When we arrive, I sit her on the couch and kneel in front of her.  
  
"This has to stop, Nadine. What you did today was unacceptable. When Mommy or Daddy dress you, you need to keep your clothes on, and you need to wait for us before you leave our quarters. Do you understand?"  
  
She nods, her big brown eyes wide.   
  
"You must never do that again," I insist.   
  
She nods again, her tiny hands folded in her lap.  
  
I nod as well, kiss her fiery red hair, and gather her clothes from the floor. I reach a hand out to her.  
  
"Come on," I sigh, "let's go brush your hair again."  
  
An hour later, I make it to the bridge. I collapse into my command chair and check the command console. Chakotay is shaking with laughter in his seat.  
  
"What's so funny?" I ask. My patience has been tried too much this morning.   
  
He clears his throat.  
  
"Did she really make it halfway to the turbolift before you caught her?"  
  
I roll my eyes.  
  
"You know, you could be a little more supportive. I'm not the only one who contributed to creating our little spitfire."  
  
He smiles smugly.  
  
"You volunteered to get her dressed and ready in the mornings. As far as I'm concerned, you brought it on yourself."  
  
Really?  
  
"Fine," I reply with a syrupy tone in my voice. "Then you get to put her down for the night."  
  
The smile falls right off his tanned face. Score: Mommy, 1, Daddy 0.


	8. Delusions

I wake with a start. Something isn't right. I can feel it in my bones. I get out of bed, make my way to Nadine's room, but she isn't in her bed. I check the main area, the bathroom, nothing. I go back to our room, wake Chakotay.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"She's gone again."  
  
He runs his hand over his face. I put a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"You take a second to wake up. It's alright, Chakotay. I'll head for the mess hall. When you're a little more awake, call the doctor." He nods and I grab my robe, squeeze his shoulder and head out the door.  
  


* * *

  
  
She's right where she always is, sitting on the floor of the mess hall with her doll and talking to the air. At first we thought it was just an imaginary friend. We were wrong. On top of the mental handicaps caused by the trauma while she was in utero, she's starting to show symptoms of what Chakotay's grandfather had. It's not supposed to present this early, but...  
  
She giggles.  
  
"You're funny. Here, wanna hold my dolly?"  
  
I step closer, crouch down beside her.  
  
"Hey, Dee." I kiss her head.  
  
"Mommy!" She throws her arms around my neck. "Come on, play with us!"  
  
Every time we do this, I have to fight back tears.  
  
"No, Deenie, we have to go back to the doctor."  
  
This time, it doesn't play out like it usually does. She throws her doll to the floor and stomps her little foot.  
  
"I'm tired of going to the doctor! I don't want any more medicine! I want to play with my friend! Why don't you believe me?" She's crying now. "He's right there!" She points with a little indignant hand, the freckles on her chest peeking out over the neck of her nightshirt. "He's there, Mommy! Why don't you believe me? Why won't you believe me!" She starts hitting herself in the head, like she does when she gets too upset, and I gently restrain her, hug her to my chest, soothe her. I've become an expert at calming her. In the midst of all this uncertainty, I've found the method that works best. All it takes is a lie.  
  
"Everything will be alright, Nadine, it's okay, it's okay, sweetheart. Everything will be alright. Mommy's here."  
  
Everything is not alright. She is getting worse every day. At this rate... I can't ask the crew to put up with this any longer. It's time we talked about an alternative.


	9. Pieces of Lace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was posted as a stand-alone PWP piece as well. It might as well be included in the story-- that was its origin. I wasn't going to upload this fic, but at PCBW's encouragement, I have done/am doing so. Her fics are, like her, riveting, endearing, marvelous-- you guys should check 'em out!

It's a familiar feeling, his eyes burning into me. We're on our way to the messhall to get dinner and then bring it back to our quarters. I don't think we'll make it the whole way. I look up from my PADD and my breath catches in my throat. After four years with him, the smoldering desire in his eyes still makes me breathless. He leans in for a kiss, one hand on my cheek and the other on the small of my back. His tongue sweeps over my lips and I part them. He draws mine into his waiting mouth, sucks it gently. He frees it, trails kisses across my chin, and I expect him to go straight for that spot on my neck, but he doesn't. This is new. He skips over it, palms my breasts in his hands, whispers in my ear, "I'm going to make you scream."  
  
He produces a scarf from his pocket, takes my hands and binds them, then turns me around to face the bulkhead.  
  
This is not something we've explored before, this scarf thing. It's new, a little frightening. But I trust him completely.   
  
"Stay put," he says, pats my behind. Then his hands are at the fastening of my pants, they're sliding down to rest at my ankles. With one swift motion he rips the panties off of me, tosses them aside. I look down and see them, replicated black lace in pieces.   
  
"Those were not cheap," I scold, glowering at him.  
  
He smacks my behind again, then runs his calloused hand over the stinging flesh to soothe it.   
"I'll replicate you new ones."  
  
He wedges a foot between mine and nudges them apart, until I have to put my forearms against the wall to keep my face from hitting it. My boots force me to stick out my rear as a counterweight. This dominance is also new. He's been in control before, but on equal footing. He's not going to let me take control this time. I am his. It's exhilarating.   
  
"Now," he whispers, his lips grazing the shell of my ear, "you'll have to be quiet, Kathryn. Wouldn't want the crew to hear you."   
  
With his last word, he pulls my backside flush against his pelvis. He is straining against his pants, and judging by the size of him, he's been thinking about this all day.  
  
He sits on the floor between my legs and takes one thigh in each hand. His tongue peeks out of his mouth and this time I can't hold back the moan that escapes me. He chuckles.   
"Not off to a good start, Kathryn."  
  
I close my eyes, forcing myself to be quiet, but then his tongue makes contact with my center, darts inside of me and I am lost.   
  
That magical thumb is back and circles my swollen bud with each thrust in. He's building me up slowly, almost painfully, and I am almost weeping.   
  
"Chakotay," I gasp, "please don't tease me..."  
  
His hands are holding me up just as much as they are holding me to him. Languorously, his tongue explores my center, one hand leaving my thigh to take its place. Three wonderful digits slip into me, his lips close on that nub and I cannot breathe. My hips roll, a cry leaves my throat and I am burning, suffused by heat and love. Still, he doesn't stop. A little more roughly his fingers thrust, he kisses my soft belly, and nips my hip.   
  
"Kathryn," he calls.  
I open my eyes and look down at him, lock gazes.  
  
"Come for me."   
  
My second climax hits just as hard as the first, my knees giving way. He catches me, holds me up, gets behind me and looses himself from his pants.   
He thrusts into me, hard and fast, no longer concerned with being quiet. He is grunting, speaking strange words interspersed with Federation Standard. He is taking me, claiming me, four years into our partnership. It's animalistic and God help me, I love it. I press back against him, his thrusts deeper and harder, my hands against the wall now.   
"Mine," he growls, reaches for my hair and pulls. "Mine... Spirits... Kathryn..."  
  
"Oh... Please." I hear myself, not sure what I'm asking for. My breasts are aching, swollen and tantalized by the fabric of my bra. "Please, oh..."  
  
He tightens his grip in my hair, and he's managed to make me mew again. This man, my warrior, mine, mine, mine.  
  
"Chakotay... please..."  
  
He spanks me harder.  
  
"Yes!"  
  
Again and again, my backside is stinging and he slaps it once more and I'm soaring, but it's not enough. Oh, I need... I need...  
  
He pulls out of me, lays me on the floor, rips my shirt and tank down the front, lowers himself and thrusts into me again, one hand on the floor by my head and the other in its place at the back of my knee.   
  
My arms are around his neck now, his lips at my breasts through the bra. This is what I needed.  
  
I'm gasping, flying, teetering and he bites my nipple, worries it in his teeth, I'm moaning and he lifts his head, puts a hand over my mouth gently, his thrusts rougher, sporadic, and then he kisses me, I can taste myself in that kiss and nothing exists. White heat and lightning pour through me and he empties himself within me, his lips leaving mine to roar my name.  
  
We are breathless, tangled on the floor. He is sweating. I graze my fingers over his tattoo, remembering the first time I saw him. He props himself up on an elbow and unties the scarf.  
  
"Chakotay." He meets my eyes. "I love you."  
  
He kisses me again, that sweet, heady taste on his lips and tongue still. He helps me stand and we dress, my jacket zipped all the way to hide the ripped shirt and tank. I stuff the pieces of replicated lace into my pocket, he puts the scarf in his.   
"And by the way," I begin, a sly smile creeping over my face, "next time, I may have to gag you."


	10. Yellow

I slip my feet into a pair of sandals and finally Nadine and I are dressed for shore-leave, Nadine in a little navy bathing suit and I in a lavender maternity sundress. Chakotay and I talked at length again last night about what to do regarding her health. About how it impacts this family with a new baby on the way, our jobs, and (not least of all) the crew. After weeks of no solutions, we decided to see if a vacation will help. There's a planetoid not far from here with a beautiful beach, and he's going to teach Nadine how to swim. I packed three data PADDs so that I can go over ship reports while they splash about, but they're missing from my bag now. It seems that Chakotay has confiscated them. Nadine is fidgeting in her bathing suit, scratching her behind.  
  
"It itches," she whines, tugging the fabric away from her skin.  
  
"It's the seam," I explain and crouch down to adjust it for her. At twenty weeks, I can't hide my belly any longer, but at least I can still crouch. I expand the seat of the bathing suit, trying to get the seam to lay on the side of her rear instead of where she'd sit. I have to update her size in the replicator. This suit is too small. No wonder it's itchy.  
"You're growing, Deenie. The suit's too small!" I smile at her, then stand again. "Take it off and I'll get you one that fits better."   
  
She has mastered the art of stripping. The suit is in a ball on the floor before I've finished my sentence. I bend over to pick it up and freeze, my fingers an inch from the strap. Something moved by the couch. I pick up Nadine and whirl around, ready to tap my combadge.  
  
"You saw it, too!" She's ecstatic. I look at her, my heart pounding. I slap the combadge.  
  
"Security to the captain's quarters," I bark, struggling to keep Nadine from falling. She's squirming, trying to get down. "Intruder al--"  
  
"He's not an intruder, it's my friend!" Nadine scolds, her little hands trying to pry mine from her waist.  
  
I hold her very still, my blood turning to ice. The red alert lights flash, casting a strange glow on her face.  
  
"What do you mean, Nadine?"  
  
She rolls her eyes.  
  
"That's my friend," she repeats, her tone as if she's talking to an idiot.  
  
"The one Mommy can't see?"  
  
I see it again; it's a ripple in the air, like a heat wave. I lose my grip on Nadine and she's headed straight for the ripple.  
  
Tuvok and two others come into the room, compression rifles in hand. Tuvok scans the room, then looks at me.  
  
"By the couch." I try to grab Nadine before she gets too close, but she's having a ball, like it's a game. And then I hear him, the friend she talks about. His voice is an echoing whisper, like he's right in my ear.  
  
 _Come on, Nadine, come play with me._

She's giggling, her hand leaving her side to take the invisible one offered to her. I address the ripple.  
  
"Who are you?" My tone is harsh, one I use with hostiles.   
  
I can feel Tuvok watching me.  
  
The friend still has not answered.  
  
"Who are you?" I demand again, louder.   
  
Now I can see him completely and my stomach drops to the floor.  
  
He is enormous, a sickly yellow, with dingy fur and a horrifying arm. There is only one, and it is wrapped tightly around my daughter's hand.   
  
"Leave us," he hisses, baring teeth the size of my fingers that look as though they could easily rip us to shreds.   
  
"Not while you have her." I step forward.  
  
Tuvok is still watching me, the rifle trained on the floor.  
  
"Captain," he calls. It's a question. He's asking for an explanation.  
  
Suddenly my head feels like it's going to split in two and the baby is kicking hard; images are flooding my mind, most of them jumbled, overlapping, but a few are perfectly clear and terror grips my heart. In the images, he is eating small children, just Nadine's size, while they are still alive. When the pain subsides and I can see, the creature is walking away with Nadine toward the bedroom. I hurry unsteadily after them, Tuvok and the other two close behind.  
  
"Captain." Tuvok again. "What do you see?"  
  
"He's taking Nadine to her room," I growl, turning to take a rifle from one of the crewmen. I can't tell Tuvok what it intends without scaring Nadine. If I scare her now, it may kill her to avoid losing its meal. I manage to take the rifle before he realizes my intent, and when I turn back the creature and Nadine are walking through the bulkhead. I take aim and fire, the blast hitting the creature in the back. I am close enough to grab Nadine now, while the "friend" is recovering from the shot. It shrieks, the baby kicks hard again, Nadine covers her ears, and then they both shimmer for a second. Tuvok points his rifle at the creature, and I see Nadine and "friend" ripple and fade, then disappear. My heart is pounding in my ears. I wheel around, looking for them, knowing I won't find them but unwilling to accept it.


	11. Gohf

Nadine has been missing for a little over six hours and we are no closer to finding her than we were six hours ago. Chakotay and I are on the couch in my ready room going through all of the internal sensor logs for the past year, since she started seeing this "friend", to see if there's any evidence to point us in the right direction. We're still in our civvies. My tea is resting on my belly.  
  
"What about this?" He points to an entry on the list.  
  
"Random fluctuations," I reply, take another sip of tea.  
  
"Maybe, or maybe it's something relevant."  
  
"Or maybe it's a waste of time, Chakotay."  
  
He tenses.  
  
"Have you got anything better? I'm going to have Seven check it out."  
  
I finish going through the PADD I'm holding and pick up the next, tuck my foot back underneath me.  
  
"Add it to the list."  
  
He enters the info into another PADD and goes back to searching.  
  
 _ **"Bridge to the captain."**_  
  
"Go ahead, Tuvok." I stand and head for the teapot on my desk.  
  
 _ **"We are being hailed."**_  
  
"I'm on my way." Tea will have to wait.  
  
I step out onto the bridge and take my place in front of my chair, Chakotay right behind me.  
  
"It is a large vessel off our port bow. Their weapons and defense systems are far superior to ours," Tuvok informs me. "They have not raised shields."  
  
"On screen."  
  
He presses a few keys and the computer chimes, a grey latex-looking face taking up most of the screen.  
  
"I'm Captain Kathryn Janeway of the starship Voyager."  
  
"I am Gohf, High Commander of the Lon Empire's Army. I have heard tales of your prowess in battle, Captain Janeway. Your name is legend in this sector. It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance."  
  
"Thank you. What can I do for you, High Commander Gohf?"  
  
"A child was taken from your vessel."  
Chakotay stiffens.  
  
"Yes," I reply.  
  
"This child, she is your offspring, your hatchling."  
  
"Yes," I reply, careful to keep the fear out of my voice. "Is she alright?"  
  
"I do not have your hatchling. A member of the Phantom took her. The Lon Empire is at war with the Phantom. They steal our young, feed on them, and use the bodies as projectiles. They believe they are consuming the life-force of the young, that it will keep them virile and protect them from the wrath of the parents of the offspring. They are mistaken."  
  
Chakotay's hand is on my shoulder. Tom is staring at us and Harry, with Tom at the helm, is white as a sheet.  
  
"Now that they have taken a hatchling from you, they have marked you as their enemy."  
  
"Can you tell us where to find this 'Phantom'?" I ask.  
  
"I can do better," Gohf replies. "When I became High Commander, I took an oath to protect this sector and those who fall prey to the Phantom's practices, no matter the cost. I have lost many offspring to them, as have many on my ship. I will escort you to their space and we will get your hatchling away from the Phantom. Your vessel is fast, mine is powerful. Together, we will fight. It would be an honor for the Empire to go into battle alongside you and your people, Captain."  
  
Tom is beaming now. Harry's color has returned somewhat.  
  
"Thank you, High Commander Gohf." Chakotay's hand tightens on my shoulder. "We are very grateful to you."  
  
"How much time do you require to prepare?"  
  
I run a quick calculation in my head.  
  
"I'll need to meet with my senior staff before I can answer that question. I should have an answer for you within the hour."  
  
"Of course, Captain. Take your time. I look forward to speaking with you again."  
  
"Janeway out."  
  
"I'll assemble the senior staff," Chakotay says, then steps away.  
  
We're coming, Nadine.


	12. Villages

“I say we pound them back into whatever Godforsaken rift they came from,” B'Elanna growls, sounds of agreement coming from almost everyone around the table. My heart swells at their display of love.  
  
“While I share your distaste for this 'Phantom', Lieutenant, that would not be a logical course of action,” Tuvok interjects.  
  
“Screw logic,” Tom snaps, then looks at me. “Every child on _Voyager_ is a child of _Voyager_. And we'll be damned if we let those monsters hurt any of our kids.”  
  
Chakotay's face is stoic.  
  
“We appreciate the sentiment, Lieutenant, but Tuvok's right. We can't just go barreling in there, torpedoes at the ready. We don't know how many of their ships are carrying children, or even if they have ships.”  
  
“My point exactly,” Tuvok replies.  
  
 Tom leans over the table.  
  
“Look, ships or no ships, I never said we'd blow up the kids. That's the last thing any of us want. I just meant that--”  
  
“What Tom is trying to say,” B'Elanna supplies, “is that we're all worried about Nadine. Hell, I love Nadine like a kid of my own. It takes a village, right? The point is, we have less than twenty minutes to come up with a plan, and I think I've got one.”  
  
I perk up.  
  
“Let's hear it.”

* * *

  
  
“Chakotay, I'm going with you.”  
  
He walks around me, brushing my swollen belly as he passes.  
  
“You're not coming on that away team.”  
  
I cross my arms and block his path.  
  
“The hell I'm not. It's not a discussion. I'm the captain. I'm going.”  
  
He runs his hand over his face. The grey at his temples, the grey that I find so inviting and alluring, suddenly shows his age. I'd forgotten he was getting older.  
  
“Kathryn,” he warns, tries to step around me. I let him pass.  
  
“I'm not going to sit on the bridge this time,” I reiterate. My tone is one that I use with Paris when he gets out of line.  
  
He lets out a bark of a laugh.  
  
“I will be on that away team.”  
  
He snaps his head up to look at me, his eyes fierce and wounded. Desperate.  
  
“And what about my feelings, Kathryn? What about the baby? What the hell am I supposed to do if I lose all three of you?”  
  
“I can handle--”  
  
“No!” He's closer now, almost against me. “Kathryn, I won't let you do this.”  
  
“You don't have to 'let' me do anything. I'm the captain. I'm her mother. I'm the reason she's--”  
He grabs my biceps, not hard enough to hurt, hard enough to get my attention.  
  
“And I'm her father. I'm the one who has to live with himself after putting the three of you in harm's way. I'm the one who took her to the doctor, the minute she showed any sign of my grandfather in her.”  
  
“It's not your--”  
  
“I'm not finished!” He's shaking. “It's been almost five years, Kathryn. This is our second child. You won't even let me take out the wall between our quarters. Every time I propose you say 'no'. And now you want to risk two precious lives because of your pride? I stay because maybe, if I give you time, you'll let me in. Maybe, one day, you'll let me love you. But this-- Damn it, Kathryn. You're hurting me! I can't let you do this. I won't let you do this to us, and I won't let you do this to me.”  
  
He's crying. I pull him close, my arms around him. But it's not his call to make.  
  
“I'm sorry,” I begin. “But this is a deci--”  
  
He pushes me away, anger and... disgust... on his face. He's never looked at me this way.  
  
“If you go on this away mission, Kathryn...” He turns away, pounds his fist against the bulkhead. “You'll be endangering our children.” He turns back to me, the disgust replaced with pleading. “I can't let you do that.” He's crying harder now, his tears flowing freely. I don't think I've seen him cry since the night I died.  
  
“Chakotay...” I reach for him, want to hold him again, but he withdraws. I am a threat to him.  
  
“If you go, then I can't trust you with them.” He shakes his head. “I won't let you hurt them. I love you, more than you know. But they are babies. And I won't leave them in a situation where they can be hurt, not by phantoms, and not by their mother.”  
  
My heart is frozen solid. The baby is still within me.  
  
“What are you saying...?”  
  
“It will break my heart. But once the baby is born, I will leave. I will take them where they're safe. We'll find a planet, a moon, something, where you can't hurt them anymore.”  
  
I can't feel my body. My knees give way and I have to clutch the back of a chair.  
  
“How... can you even...” I can't breathe to form the words. My vision is blurring.  
  
He is at my side in an instant, to catch me when my fingers slacken on the fabric in their grasp.  
  
“Kathryn!”  
  
I clutch his shirt. A part of me hates him right now, the part of me that knows he's right. That I've been unbearable, still toying and hiding all these years.  
  
“Please...” I am breaking.  
  
“Don't go on that mission, Kathryn.” He holds me up with one arm, tips my face to look at him. “I don't want to leave. I know that you love them.” He kisses me gently. “I know that you love me.”  
  
I seethe silently, hating myself for doing this, for pushing him so far.  
  
I nod.  
  
“You'll stay on the bridge?”  
  
“Yes,” I manage, voice strangled.  
  
He presses me tight against him. The baby kicks us both.


	13. Poht and Pool

“Nice and easy, Tom.” I'm standing behind him as he coaxes _Voyager_ into position, side by side with Gohf's ship, as planned.   
“Okay,” he sighs, finagles another set of controls, “and...” The ship comes to a stop. “We're good.”

I pat him on the shoulder. Gohf's ship is carrying enough explosives to wipe the quadrant off the charts. One kiss of our hull on his and that's that. Tom's gotten us out of harder scrapes, but sometimes it's the smaller things that really steal your breath. Because the bigger things can't. 

“How long until the away team reaches their checkpoint?” I ask.

“Nine minutes, twenty-seven seconds,” Tuvok replies.

“Captain,” Harry's voice calls.

I face him.

“I've got an interesting--” He stops, falls to the deck. I'm beside him before the alarms blare, checking a pulse. He's alive.

“Battle stations,” I order, move out of the way for the doctor and run through the throng for the weapons locker in the hall. When I arrive, I find it empty but for a phaser. I close my hand around it, close the locker. The baby is turning somersaults.   
“Settle down,” I murmur, stroke my belly. Cold metal jabs me in the back.

“Captain,” the voice snarls. Gohf.

“I wish I could say I'm surprised,” I reply.

“Drop it.”

The phaser drops with a clatter.

“We're going to take a walk.”

“Captain!” 

A crewman, Crewman Lahey, has spotted us. He's got a compression rifle leveled at the latex commander behind me.

“We're going for a _walk_ ,” Gohf repeats, shoves me forward, toward Lahey.

I take a step, the crewman clearly conflicted.

“Crewman Lahey to Commander Tuvok.”

“ _ **Tuvok here.”**_

“Commander Gohf is onboard, and he's got the captain at gunpoint.”

“ _ **I am already aware of the situation. Keep the captain--”**_

“You follow us, she dies.”  
Gohf's hand closes around my bare bicep, he drags me down the hall. 

“Take me to the shuttlebay.”

The baby is kicking harder. I slow down. He shoves me again. This time I can't catch myself after the stumble. I fall forward, throw my hands out in front of me, manage to break my fall. Now I'm in the middle of the hall, still in this ridiculous sundress, with another traitor on my ship. My blood is boiling. As soon as I see my moment...

He grabs my hair, yanks me up. I clutch his hand, try to loosen his grip.

“I'll go! I just need to slow down. I'm pregnant.”

He pauses.   
“You are not young. Prolonged strain will kill it.”

He's not wrong. I'm in my mid-fifties. Nadine was a surprise-- this one is a miracle. His grip loosens. He is more gentle when he pushes this time. I sense that he doesn't want to hurt anyone. Something or someone has forced his hand.

“Why did you betray us?” 

He is quiet at first, following me through the halls.

“They have my son.”

“I'm sorry.” I am. No parent should have to endure the fear of losing a child.

When we reach the shuttlebay, there is a security team waiting for us, headed by Tuvok. Gohf wraps an arm around my throat, drives the gun into my ribs.

“Let us pass.”

The team waits for orders. Tuvok waves them aside and they make way.

“Where are you taking her?”

Gohf ignores him, his arm tightening over my windpipe until I see spots dancing at the edge of my vision. I tap his arm, claw at it. He doesn't let up. We aren't moving. The gun leaves my side. What is he doing? I drive my elbow into him, hoping to hit something vital. He lets me go and I fall forward, turn to look at him as he shimmers out of view. Tuvok is crouched in front of me, talking to me, until his voice is drowned out by an explosion. The ship rolls, I am sliding, then suddenly it levels out, banks hard and I feel the ship jump to warp. I am on my feet, running for the bridge. The baby is still kicking-- a good sign. 

* * *

 

This time, I'm prepared. I've got a compression rifle in hand, a knife strapped to my leg, a phaser hidden in my bra. That's one good thing about the dress-- it's easier to conceal things in this than in the uniform. God, I miss my pants. Harry says it wasn't Gohf's ship that blew. It was our decoy shuttle. I can live with that. He says B'Elanna, Chakotay, Ayala and Tabor are fine. They're still on route, and will check in again in a half an hour. There's a shuffle in the corridor to my right. I sweep this corridor again, aim for the other and head to it. It's Gohf. He's a little taller than I am. He is standing over the body of a smaller latex-looking creature. Presumably his son.

“He was crying for me. Had you been with me when I went to him, he would have lived.” He is shaking.

“I'm sorry for your loss.” But that doesn't mean I won't shoot you here and now if you –

“'Sorry' doesn't bring Poht back.” He turns to face me, his height changing. He is now slightly taller than Tuvok. “I blame you. I was to give them you and your infant. You were to set him free. He is dead, Poht is dead. And it's _your fault!_ ” 

He shimmers out of view again, reappears at the other end, shoots the crewman coming round the bend. She falls with a thump. I reach her, but he's already gone again. I check for a pulse, knowing damn well what I'll find. Her name was Tanya Pool. Her family is from Bloomington, Indiana, too. He could've kept running. He wants me to chase him. The baby rolls.   
“I agree,” I growl. “Let's get that son of a bitch.”

  
  



	14. Payload

He's running for the cargo bay. It's empty. He runs into the room, stops and turns to face me. The compression rifle in my hand is leveled at his head, set to stun. He paces in a circle, makes for the control panel on the wall.  
  
“If I go, so do you,” he snarls.  
  
“Not today.” My finger pulls the trigger as the baby kicks hard, a cramp rippling after that. The shot is wild, misses him by a lightyear. I'm gritting my teeth, hissing. The pain is not as bad as Nadine's near miss, but enough to have me doubled over with the second cramp.  
He's stepping closer. I hold a hand out, try to give him a glare. Something tells me it fell flat.  
  
“You are not well.”  
  
I cover my mouth with the other hand.  
  
“You require medical assistance.”  
  
His hand closes on my bicep again. This time he is gentle.  
  
The pain subsides. The baby is rolling, turning his usual somersaults and kicking happily. I stand.  
  
“I'm fine.”  
  
He withdraws.  
  
“I apologize. I cannot harm you.”  
  
I don't share his sentiment. I raise the rifle again and fire, this time hitting him in the chest. He drops like Harry did less than an hour before.  


* * *

  
  
Gohf has been beamed back to his ship, most of his explosives beamed as far from us as we can get them. Harry is at his post still, no worse for the wear. The doctor is flitting around me with his scans and his nagging. So far the baby is fine.  
  
Our rescue plan was formed with Gohf's potential betrayal in mind. The away team has made the necessary adjustments and –  
  
The ship is hit by weapons fire. The doctor is nagging louder.  
  
“Commander Gohf has caught up with us and is firing. Shields at 86%.” Tuvok's hands are dancing over his console.  
  
“Hail him,” I bark.  
  
“He's responding,” Harry replies.  
  
“On-screen.”  
  
His grey face fills the viewer.  
  
“Commander.”  
  
“I said I couldn't harm you. That doesn't mean I will let you ruin things.”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
“You will stop pursuing the Phantom.”  
  
I look at Harry and give him the “cut it” gesture. He does.  
  
“Captain,” Tom calls, the question in his voice.  
“We're not stopping,” I reply, getting to my feet. The ship rocks again and I have to twist to keep from landing on the baby.  
  
“Shields at 50% and failing.”  
  
I'll have a bruise on my hip in the morning. I get onto my hands and knees, but now I'm stuck. The doctor isn't flitting. We're hit again.  
  
“Direct hit, port nacelle.”  
  
“We're venting plasma!” Harry shouts. “Another hit and we--”  
  
The ship groans and creaks.  
  
“Hull breaches on deck 4. Force fields in place and holding.”  
  
I'm crawling for my chair, pull myself into it.  
  
“Hail him again!”  
  
His face fills the screen again.  
  
“You will not --”  
  
“You are personally responsible for the death of Tanya Pool. You are standing between me and my daughter. Break off your attack--”  
  
“Or what, Captain? We both know my vessel is more powerful than yours, in firepower and speed.”  
“Break off your attack or I will be forced to retaliate.”  
  
He laughs.  
  
“Retaliate if you will.”  
  
The screen goes black and I am thrown to the deck again. I hear the ship crying, groaning, then a crossbeam swings down and narrowly misses Tom at the helm.  
  
“Tuvok!”  
  
“Captain?”  
  
“Fire!”  
  
“Photon torpedo away.”  
  
 What Gohf doesn't know is that we took some of his payload and modified a torpedo to hold it. It's targeted his weapons and propulsion systems and is programmed to detonate before it hits -- it does. The explosion is purple, more like lightning than fire.  
  
“Gohf's ship is disabled.”  
  
I can't help the vindictive swell.  
  
“Hail Chakotay and let him know what happened.” I sit in my chair again. There are a couple of pangs, not too bad.  
  
“Captain!” Tom's voice is strained.  
  
I meet his eyes as he bounds the distance between us with his medkit.  
  
“What is it?”  
  
He gestures at my dress.  
  
“That.”  
  
I look down. Blood is staining my skirt.


	15. A Child's Eye

With nothing left for me to do for the next hour or more but wait, I'm en route to my quarters to change. I'm limping slightly. The blood on my skirt turned out to be from a gash on my thigh. The knife I strapped to my leg cut into me when the ship was tossed around. Tom patched me up as best he could on the bridge because the doctor is swamped with casualties. Muscle damage can't be counted out as a factor here, but it certainly doesn't trump burns or fractured femurs. I'm not about to bother him for a wound that's already stopped bleeding. The toe of my sandal snags the hem of my dress and I have to catch myself on the wall. This skirt is doing me no favors. 

“ _ **Neelix to Captain Janeway.”**_

“Go ahead, Neelix.”  
I stop to lean against the bulkhead.

“ _ **The captain's assistant would like to have a word with you.”**_

I smile.   
“I'll be happy to speak with her. I'm on my way to my quarters for a change of clothes just now. I'll meet her in my ready room in about ten minutes.”

“ _ **Of course, Captain.”  
**_ “Janeway out.”

I'm glad that she'll want to talk. She's been a good friend to Nadine.

  
  


* * *

 

In my uniform at last, I stride with a bit more confidence out of the turbolift and across the bridge. The pain in my thigh is still nagging, but in my boots and pants I don't feel so out of command. Naomi is waiting just outside the door to my ready room, her hair in a neat braid that she's pinned into a bun.   
“Captain,” she greets me, formal and nervous. The formality is something she's adopted as she's gotten older, but the nervousness is unlike her. It could just be me, but I think she's grown since I saw her yesterday. Now almost twelve, she's nearly as tall as her mother. It's no surprise; Sam tells me Naomi's father grew four inches in one of his growth spurts.

“At ease,” I remind her, showing her into the room. 

She hurries past me, paces by the couch and bites her fingernails. This is how we've come to be, once the pomp and circumstance are out of the way. I'm not just her captain anymore. She comes to me for advice on things she can't ask her mother. I thought she'd go to Seven or B'Elanna, or maybe Tal Celes, but she's come to me. It's comforting to be reminded that Chakotay isn't the only one who sees me as a woman, someone who cries over people she misses and used to hide under the covers with a flashlight after lights out. My sister would know how to handle the “boy trouble” better than I do. God, I miss Phoebe.

I sit on the couch and pat the cushion beside me. She sits, keeps biting her nails.

“What's wrong?”

She shifts uncomfortably, avoids my eyes.

I lean over, rest my elbows on my knees and try a gentler tone.   
“Naomi...”

“I saw it, too.” She's up again, pacing the room.

“Saw what?”

“The Phantom,” she answers, “only I didn't know that's what it was. I used to see the big yellow thing, only it wasn't so menacing back then, it was cute and cuddly, and it was better than Flotter, because Flotter doesn't talk, or at least stuffed Flotter doesn't, and --”   
  
“Wait,” I interject, stand up and step closer. If I let her, she'll ramble more. She does that when she gets nervous. “Slow down, back up. What do you mean, 'back then'?”

“When I was a kid, before you and the commander... you know...”

I nod.   
  
“He was just an imaginary friend, back then, or that's what my mom told me, but now that he's taken Nadine, I just... I should've told you sooner, and I'm really really sorry, I didn't know he was a threat, and I just...”   
She trails away, her face crumples and my maternal instincts kick into high gear. I fold her in my arms, let her cry for a moment to get some of it out of her system.   
“This is not your fault, Naomi.”

She sniffles.

“The commander and I didn't do what we should have to make sure that she was safe and in doing that we put everyone on this ship in danger. I put everyone on this ship in danger. And now the Phantom have her, and we are going to get her back.” I stop, hold her away from me and hold her gaze. “Do you understand?”

She nods, then laughs, wipes the tears from her cheeks.

“What is it?”

“Does the baby always kick like that?”

I smile.   
“Not always. I think it's his way of saying he's not going to let anything happen to his sister, either.”

She laughs again, sighs.

“Now, why don't you tell me more about the Phantom when you knew it?”

 

* * *

 

The Phantom wasn't interested in her for nourishment. It was lonely. It wanted a playmate. I want to believe that Nadine is safe, that she's just playing Kadis Kot with her friend, but my gut tells me that's not it. Those images her “friend” showed me can't be ignored.

“Captain,” Harry calls.   
“Yes?”

“I've been thinking. Why couldn't Commander Tuvok see the Phantom when it grabbed Nadine, but you did?”

“I've been thinking about that, as well,” Tuvok interjects, looking up from his console. “I believe the answer lies in who could see him from the beginning.”

“The kids,” Tom offers. “Naomi and Nadine.”

“Precisely. Captain, you're carrying a child.” Tuvok arches his brow. “Perhaps the Phantom allowed you to see him because he sensed the child within you.”

“A logical conclusion,” Seven replies.

“Wait, wait a minute.” Tom turns to face us, crosses his arms. “Wouldn't it sense that she was an adult? I mean, sure, she's pregnant, but she's not a kid. A kid that's a kid would register differently than a kid that's a fetus, wouldn't it?”

“A very good question, Mr. Paris.” I adjust, my toes falling asleep. A sudden wave of nausea rolls over me, my lunch threatening to come back up. I close my eyes, do some deep breathing.

“Captain?” Tom's voice.

“It's nothing.” My head is throbbing. “Just nausea.”

A console chimes behind me, Harry's console.

“Captain, there's a ship --”  
The lights go down on the bridge, relieving the pain in my head, but only increasing my nausea.

“What's happening?”

The lights come back up, the view-screen filled with yellow fur and fangs.

“I speak to the one who is the mother.”

I force myself to stand, steady myself on the arm of my chair.

“Where is my daughter?”

It bares its fangs.

“She is here.”  
Her red hair pops up behind him, one little hand waving excitedly.  
“Hi, Mommy!”

She's alive. And he's given her clothes. Shorts and a tank, made out of some kind of burlap, looks like.

“Nadine...” I turn my gaze back to the Phantom, hardened again. “Give her back to me.”

“Mommy, Daddy is here, with Auntie B!” her little voice chirps.

“What?” They weren't due to intercept the Phantom's vessel for hours.

The beast turns around, makes a sound at her and she disappears from view.

“Yes,” it rasps. “They were following.”  
“What have you done to them?”  
“They are unharmed. The one with the markings, her father, he is here now.”

The beast moves, and I can see Chakotay behind it. His face is bruised, his eye swollen. He's slumped in the corner.  
“You call that unharmed?”   
It hisses at me, its eyes flaring.  
“Beware. She sees what I intend her to see. He is unharmed.”  
So it's tricking her. At the moment, that's not exactly a bad thing.  
“Where are the others?”

“They are unharmed.”  
“Then show me.”

It hisses again.

“They are unharmed. You will listen.”  
“Nadine,” I call.

She pops into view again, beaming.   
“Hi!”

I smile at her, keep my tone even.

“Are you alright?”

“Mm...” She looks down at herself. “Yep.”  
“Good. Have you seen the others?”

She nods, licks her fingers.   
“Auntie B is in a cage, because she kept trying to hurt my friend. She's okay, though. He says he won't hurt her as long as she keeps her hands to herself. No hitting! Mr. Tabor and Mr. Ayala are in the playroom.”

I swallow.

“'Playroom'?”

“Yeah! There's lots of toys and a swing, and a bed in case they get sleepy, with nice straps to hold you in so you don't fall out.”

Tom turns to look at me, my anger reflected in his eyes.

“Enough!” The creature pushes her out of view again, sends her over to her father. “You will trade.”

I'll kill him.   
“We don't negotiate with thugs.”

“You will come to my ship.”

Chakotay's form moves slightly, out of the beast's view.

“No.”

“You will stay.”

“Once we have our people back, we're not staying in your space.”  
“I said 'you' will stay. Alone.”

“The hell I will.”  
Chakotay is moving closer to him, something in his hand.

“Then they will die.”

It turns around, digs its claws into Chakotay's chest.

Nadine screams, a console explodes to the beast's right and Ayala comes into view, a compression rifle in his hand. B'Elanna is right behind him, beckoning to Nadine.  
The screen goes black.   
“Get security teams over --”

A part of the other ship explodes, the shockwave throwing _Voyager_  to starboard.

When it subsides, debris is floating past the view-screen.   
“What just happened?”  
Tuvok and Harry are tapping at their consoles, Harry the first to speak.

“It was one of our spatial charges. Looks like it was set in one of the holding cells. I've got four life-signs, two are very faint.”

Only four?

 


	16. Burning

"Human?”

“Yes, Ma'am. It's the commander, B'Elanna, Nadine and Tabor.”

“Beam them to sickbay, Harry. Tuvok, your with me.”  
Jogging for the turbolift, my friend close behind me, the nausea is back. I cover my mouth with the back of my hand, swallow past it, but it's not helping. 

The doors swish closed and Tuvok arches an eyebrow at me.  
“Are you unwell?”

I let out a breath between tight lips, hold up two fingers. If I talk now, I'll--

The lift stops and I vomit, the mess splashing over my shoes. I feel lightheaded. I've lost my balance. Tuvok catches me, but there's that pounding in my head again.

_You have no choice. You will come to me._

It's a hissing, the beast's voice. There are images flooding my mind; Ayala broken and dead, his eyes vacant. _Voyager_ in ruin, escape pods imploding around it. Chakotay and Nadine, flaming and howling. I vomit again, the baby rolling and kicking.

_You will give me what is mine, or I will destroy them all._

Tuvok is calling me. Tears are pouring over my cheeks, heat and smoke choking me, detonations rattling my teeth and the screams of my family, my crew, ring in my ears.

_You will not deny me. I will not die. I will follow you, hunt you, until you come to me and give me what is mine. Do not doubt me._

My son, pale and tiny, comes to the forefront of these images, his little hands balled up, swaddled in a cloth like Nadine's burlap outfit. My son, cooing and gurgling, held by yellow fur. My son, with his father's eyes and hair, still wet and crying after birth, taken from me by claws.  
  
 _You will come to me. I will wait for the hatching. I will take it._

Its anger, rage, its fear and hunger, it's all overpowering. He isn't just sharing his thoughts, he's in my head.

“No...” I push the thoughts away, force it into a corner. “Not anymore.”  
It's clawing, gnashing, biting at me. I can feel its pain. It's dying.

_You fight, you stupid thing. Then you kill them all._

A blinding, searing, scarring light explodes and Nadine is laughing, her hair bouncing as she runs, naked, through the ship away from me, her freckled backside disappearing around a corner.  
No... that's so long ago.  
Another explosion behind my eyes, Chakotay's face twisted into anger and hate as he shoves me away, takes the baby and leaves-- That never happened.  
The light hurts, God, it hurts so damn much. I want to sleep...

 

* * *

 

“She's coming to.” The doctor's voice. “Captain, can you hear me?”

“Yes,” I croak, shielding my eyes from the lights around me.

“Is she alright?” Chakotay... “Is she hurt?”

“Commander, please.” The doctor again. “Captain, can you sit up?”

Probably. But...  
“Oh, my head.”

“Kathryn!”

“Commander! Don't make me sedate you.”

I have to touch him. See his eyes.   
“Chakotay...”   
I sit up slowly, hands coming to support me. The lights...   
“So damn bright in here, Doctor.”

“Computer, reduce lighting by 25%.”

I can open my eyes now.  
“Oh...”

And it's him. My warrior. He's alive, not burning, not howling, and he's standing in front of me. Tattoo back to its shape, no bruising. And Sick Bay's clear.

“Kathryn...”

He steps closer, but the EMH weaves between us.

“I need you to answer a few questions first.”

“How long was I out?”

“Can you tell me your name?”

“Doctor, how long was I out?”

“Please answer the doctor's question.” Tuvok is stern. I turn to look at him, but what I see stops my glare. He's got a phaser on me.

“Can you tell me your name?” The EMH again.

“Captain Kathryn Janeway,” I respond, my nerves on high alert again.

“And... where are you from?”

He's got to be kidding.

“Indiana.”

“More specific answers are more helpful,” he chides. “Where, exactly?”

“Bloomington, Indiana, America, Earth, the Alpha Quadrant, the 24thcentury.” I can't help but growl it out. I don't like feeling like a prisoner on my own ship.

“Very good, thank you.” He's beaming that false smile, the one that tells me he's acting. He looks down at a PADD in his hand. To hell with his questions.

“My sister is named Phoebe. My mother is Gretchen, my father is Vice Admiral Edward Janeway. I left behind an Irish Setter named Molly and a fiance, Mark Johnson. I read Dante, I reprogrammed the Doctor so that he'd forget about Ahni Jetal, and sat with him while he came to terms with his actions around her death.” My tone is gentler now, my eyes falling on Chakotay's beautiful browns, my throat tightening. “The poetry I was reading while sitting with him I quoted when I told my partner, the father of my children, that I would not use protocol or Starfleet as excuses any more. 'In that book which is my memory, on the first page of the chapter that is the day when I first met you...'” I have to stop, swallow my tears. Damn hormones. “'Appear the words--'”

He says them for me, with me.

“'Here begins a new life.'” He reaches for me, kisses me, strokes my face and hair.

“Well...” The EMH clears his throat, obviously insulted and annoyed. “That's not exactly the way the other checks have gone, but you're not really one to stay inside the lines, now, are you, Captain.”

“I was so worried about you,” Chakotay murmurs, his voice thick. “Oh, Kathryn.”

“How long was I out?”

“Almost two weeks,” Chakotay replies, his hand never leaving my hair.

“Twelve days, two hours, and fifty-one seconds,” the EMH rattles off in his know-it-all tone, “to be exact. And now, if you'll excuse me, Commander, I have some work to do on my patients.”

He pushes Chakotay out of the way gently, runs his tricorder over me.

“Twelve days?” My head is throbbing a little. Almost two weeks! “What the hell happened?”

“The Phantom,” Chakotay supplies.

“It came on board when our shields were down after the explosion on its ship," Tuvok explains. "You and I were in the turbolift, Captain. You were ill and lost consciousness. I brought you to Sick Bay, where the Doctor detected the Phantom's consciousness super-imposed over your own. Upon being discovered, it fled. Since then, it has been posing as members of the crew.”

“'Skin-jacking',” Chakotay interjects.

Tuvok arched a brow.  
“A crude but fitting name.”

“'Skin-jacking'?” What a horrible name.

Chakotay smiles slightly, tugs an ear.  
“Tom's word."

Of course.  
“And Nadine? How is she?”

He smiles. A good sign.

“Good. She's with Naomi.”

I'm beaming.  
“Wonderful.”

Chakotay winks at me.  
“How does it look, Doc?”

“Fine. She and the baby are both fine.”

“Then I'll be heading for the bridge." Before he can find any more reason to keep me here. I slide off the biobed, but the EMH stops me.

“In fact,” the Doctor states, his brow furrowed, “too healthy. This is fascinating. And perplexing. Captain, see this scar, on your records?”

It runs from my hip to knee. Of course I remember it.  
“Hirogen.”

“Right. And this one, behind your right ear?”

“Hand-to-hand altercation in the Ko system.”

“Yes, and this one?”

Two dots. Borg assimilation tubules. A botched assimilation.

“Borg sphere, a few years back.”

He turns the image, shows me one more. One across my stomach, a jagged one. One I don't have.

 

 


	17. My Angry Warrior

“ _Kathryn, I warned you. I told you that if you put them in harm's way again, I'll take them away.”_

_“Just stop and listen to me, just for a second--”_

_He shoves me, hard, his eyes wild.  
“I told you that I wouldn't let you touch them again. I won't let you hurt them.” _

_“Chakotay, you have to stop. It's all --”_

_He shoves me again, knocks me over. I land hard, Nadine and Seamus watching from the shadows. The baby is crying._   
_“If you think that I'll let you near my kids for a second, then you're out of your mind.” He picks up the baby, hands her to Nadine. “Take your brother and go to the shuttlebay.”_   
  
_Seamus wipes his nose on his sleeve._   
_“But, Daddy, what about Mommy?”_

_I get to my feet. He glares at me, my warrior, with hate and anger in his eyes.  
“I'll deal with her.”_

I jolt awake, his hand on my hip. His breathing is even. He's fast asleep. He'd never hurt me. He couldn't; he'd hurt himself first. But if something changed... if he genuinely thought I was a threat to them...  
What am I doing? It's just a dream. A nightmare. Seamus isn't even born yet. Still, he sighs in his sleep and I'm on high alert.

I won't be able to fall asleep again anytime soon. I slide out of bed, fumble around in the dark for my robe. It's never in the same place. Before he spent nights in my quarters, I always had the robe in the same place. Now I put it down, I go back to it, it's moved. It's been like this since before Nadine was born. We're so different, in so many ways.

“Kathryn?”  
He's woken up.

“It's alright, Chakotay. Go back to sleep.”

I can hear him roll over, sigh. It aggravates him that I don't discuss my dreams. When he wakes, he wants to talk about them. Dreams are so important to him. He often dreams about his spirit guide, or about his grandfather. I dream about Borg spheres and funerals.

I've found the robe; it's over the shower wall in the ensuite. I pull it down, wrap it around me before I remember that my belly is too big for the robe to close. It can just hang open. The puzzles and toys Nadine was playing with are still on the floor in the living room. I get down on my hands and knees to pick them up, pull her toybox across the carpet and go through the current state of affairs. We have Nadine back, Tabor is back to work, and after B'Elanna has another week of half-shifts, she can go back to her regular schedule. After Ayala's memorial, she was numb again. To avoid the same crisis as last time with those holodeck programs, Tom has been keeping a close eye on her. The two weeks I've been out have been busy; repairs have been going at a steady pace, the Phantom has been posing as someone new almost every day, and we're still no closer to figuring out how to keep him from “skin-jacking” anyone else. After spending hours searching for signs of tampering in the Doctor's program and in the computer, we can only conclude that the extra scar is a clerical error. I'm not quite comfortable with that answer, but it's the best solution we can come up with, so far.

 

Hands cover my hips, one leaving its resting place to take the toy shuttle out of my hand and put it in the box.

“I missed you so much while you were gone.”

I sit back on my heels, turn around in his arms.   
“It's good to be back.”

His brown eyes are shining, his hair a mess. I brush it off of his forehead, trace the ink over his brow with my fingertips.   
He stays my hand, brings my fingers to his lips and kisses them, trails over my palm, my wrist, up my arm.

“I thought about you every night, every time I showered.”

I chuckle.  
“I can only imagine what you thought about in the shower.”

He smiles at me, mischief dancing on his lips.  
“It gets lonely in there, without someone to help me wash up.”

I give him a playful swat on the arm.

He pulls me into his lap, holds me against his chest.  
“I missed the way you hum when you wash your hair, the smell of your skin. The sounds you make in your sleep... The way you pick at your fingers under the table in staff meetings when you think no one can see it.”

“I don't pick.”

“You did it this afternoon, when the Doctor was giving a report on B'Elanna's status, when Neelix suggested a party.”

“Oh, God, Chakotay, the party.” I rub my forehead. “We can't have a party with the Phantom loose. It'd be a security nightmare.”

He strokes my lower back through the robe, kisses my ear.  
“Shh. Just be here,” he whispers, a plea. “Let me hold you, touch you.”

I snuggle closer, try to wrangle my thoughts before they run off without me.

His lips trail over my cheek, find the hollow at my jaw.

My breath quickens and I can feel him hardening against my calf.

His hands slip under the hem of my nightgown, one finding my hip again, the other grazing over my thigh. His touch is gentle, guiding my legs apart slightly, just enough to allow his hand to cup me through my panties. Stroking me, he gently sucks at that hollow on my neck and it strikes me that he hasn't touched me while I was pregnant until now. Even when I was pregnant with Nadine, he kept his distance and--

“Oh!”

His fingers have found their way inside me, his mouth still on my neck.

“Chakotay!”

His other hand is holding my legs open, his fingers curled under my thigh.

“I've missed the way your thighs quiver when I touch you. You're so wet, Kathryn.”

Oh, God... I have to adjust.  
“Wait,” I breathe. First I have to get this robe off. With that taken care of, I get on all fours, face away from him.

Chakotay groans, pulls me to him by the hips and rolls me over.   
“I love the way you think,” he growls. “But tonight, I want to see your face.”  
His fingers find their way inside me again, slowly and lovingly caressing.  
“You are so beautiful. Your eyes, your nose, your scars, everything about you...”

I want his body over mine, his skin against mine, I want him closer. Reaching up for him, I sit up slightly.

His strong hand leaves the meeting of my thighs and guides me back down. He winks at me, face disappearing beyond the swell of my belly, and he nuzzles my thigh. He hasn't done this in a long time.

“I want to taste you,” he whispers, his hands sliding under my behind and lifting me. His nose touches my folds, my bud, a ghost of a touch. His breath cools the heat there, his tongue like a fire that knows me better than my nightmares.

The dream comes back to me, his eyes and face twisted into a violent and hateful rage, my children with fear in their eyes, fear of him. Fear of me.

“Wait.”

He lifts his head, his hair falling over his tattoo, those big brown eyes filled with concern.  
“What's wrong?”

I pull my nightgown past my knees, lift my leg around him, sit up and pull the robe around me again.

“I can't.”  
I'm shaking.

“What is it, Kathryn?” His arm slides around my shoulders. “Is it the dream?”

I cover his hand with mine.

He waits for me to speak, brushing my hair from my forehead.

“You took them,” I manage, the fear coming back full force. “The baby, Seamus, Nadine. I tried to explain, tried to stop you. You shoved me down, pushed me, ripped them out of my life. They were afraid. Of you. Of me. Of what I did.” The look on his face is burning into my mind's eye. “You hated me.”

He holds me, my face buried in his shoulder. He is silent, letting me calm down. But I don't want him to hold me now; I'm angry with him, for what he did in the dream, for not reassuring me that he would never hurt me. For touching me after what he did in the dream. It's unreasonable. He loves me. He didn't know. But I am so angry.

I need air.

 

 


	18. Mok'tah

I tune out for most of the walk. For years I would roam the ship, feel the hum of _Voyager'_ s engines all around me, when I couldn't sleep. After a nightmare. After a death. Occasionally I would end up in Seven's cargo bay, in Hydroponics, in Astrometrics. Tonight, it seems my subconscious has taken me to the Mess Hall.

B'Elanna is lounging on a couch near one of the replicators, a PADD in hand. I make my way over to her, pull my sweater tighter around me.

“Mind if I join you?”

She shoots upright, drops the PADD.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you.”  
I lean down to pick up the PADD, but can't maneuver around my belly properly. In the weeks that I was unconscious, the baby has grown so much. The doctor says that it's normal, and I'm sure it is. It's also damned uncomfortable.

“It's okay,” B'Elanna says. I can hear her smirk. “I'll get it.”

I sit across from her and drop my head back, try to let the tension escape. I don't know what I expected... tension has been my shadow since I was a little girl.

“So you couldn't sleep either?”

I rub my eyes with my right hand.  
“No, I slept.”

“Nightmares.”  
Her voice is heavier.

I lift my head, take in the bags under her eyes, the oil in her hair. She hasn't been sleeping.  
“How are you, B'Elanna? Really?”

She must be able to hear my concern. She sits straighter, brushes her hair off of her face and attempts a smile.  
“I'm fine.”

I snort, drop my head back again.  
“If you were fine, you'd be in bed with your husband,” I counter.

“So would you.”

I chuckle.  
“Touche.”

We sit in silence for a few minutes, the only sound in the room her nails on the controls of the PADD.

“Captain...”

“No uniform,” I remind her, then sit up.

“Right. Kathryn.” She brightens slightly.

“Yes, B'Elanna?”

“I was thinking... Tom and I were talking about it yesterday, over lunch. What do you miss the most about it?”

“You mean Earth?”

She shakes her head.  
“No. What do you miss the most about living on your own, in your own quarters.”

“Oh.” I run my hand through my hair, consider her question. “Well, for starters, I miss being alone. It was easier. Certainly quieter. I knew where everything was.”

She laughs.

“I guess... I guess what I miss the most, really, is the sense of independence.”

She leans forward, rests her chin on her palm.  
“Is that why you haven't gotten married yet?”

Uh-oh.  
“Well...” I fidget, play with the collar of my sweater. “That's part of it, I suppose.”

She's just sitting there, patient and still. Damn Klingon determination.  
  
“I … I guess that... another part...” I clear my throat, very aware of how loud I am. She has a right to ask. He's her friend, and I know how she felt about him once. It's hard to miss, when another is looking at your love interest the way you do.

She leans forward a little more, her eyes soft.  
“I get it.”  
She leans back, crosses her legs and goes back to her PADD.

“You do?”

“You worry. I had it, the hesitation. The fear. My grandmother used to use this phrase in Klingon, 'mok'tah'. It means 'bad match'. It ran through my head, all the time. I kept thinking, 'What if we're a bad match? What if all this … all this anger, this stubbornness, all these differences between us, what if they're all we'll ever have?'”

“And?”

“We didn't have a family started, so it's different for you, but... When I talked to Neelix about it, about this fear with Tom, he said to me, 'If you're really such a mok'tah, it must have been an awful three years.'” She settles back again.

I fall against the back of my chair, more confused than when we started talking.

“Oh, p'taq!”

“I beg your pardon?”

She's red, but it's not a blush.   
“How could I have missed it?”

“Missed what?”

She hands me the PADD, points to a highlighted line of data.

I'll be damned.  
“Chroniton particles?”

She's got that spark again.  
“It was so obvious!”

I lay my hand on my belly, hold him closer.  
“B'Elanna,” I start, scooting forward in my chair.

“It was the Phantom's payload,” she blurts, crouching beside the armchair. “He must've loaded it with something, a failsafe. If anyone used his weapon against him, it was designed to trigger a chemical reaction. When we blew up his ship, we opened a rift.”

“And the data files, the 'skin-jacking'--”

“They're all a part of the flux. Everything is bleeding together, and if we don't stop it...” She scoffs. “Talk about a mok'tah.”

“Wait a minute. We can use it to our advantage.”

She thinks for a second, then she smiles that smile that comes straight from her Klingon half.

I hand her the PADD, take her arm to get out of the chair and head for the door.

“Senior staff meeting,” she says with me, my grin just as wide as hers.

I clap her on the shoulder. “One hour.”

  


 


	19. Shift

Neelix is the last to file in, the rest of the senior staff already seated.  
“Sorry I'm late, Captain.”

“It's alright, Neelix. You're right on time.”

He smiles, sits down beside Harry.

I read their faces, looking for any sign that the Phantom is sitting in. There's something about their eyes when he takes over, I'm told. They're not quite the same. I see no reason to delay the meeting.

At my nod, B'Elanna stands.

“I've been looking over the readouts from the explosion, and I found something that the captain and I believe can be used to our advantage.” She walks to the console on the wall, presses a few keys. A display comes up that maps the explosion and the ripple it caused.

“The Phantom's payload had a chemical in it that interacted with something inside his ship. The explosion created chroniton particles and a temporal ripple. My guess is that the Phantom has been using that as his hiding place and that's why we can't find him when he's not here. Now, everything inside that ripple is in an unstable temporal flux, pieces from other timelines coming into ours, just like he can hide in there.”

“Like that extra scar,” Harry chimes in.

“Exactly. The thing is, when this stuff solidifies in our timeline, it'll create temporal incursions. If enough things solidify at once, it would wipe out our timeline completely.” She presses a key that changes the view, showing a projection of a temporal collapse.

“I think I understand,” Neelix says. “Correct me if I'm wrong, Lieutenant, but it looks like things are being pushed into that rift.”

“That's correct. A massive incursion like this one would create a wavefront. Whichever side the incursion occurs on, that's where our wavefront will be.”

Tom sits up a little more.   
“But that also means that things can be pulled back in. Right?”

“Exactly. See the concentration of particles around the items being sucked in? They're things that were in that explosion, at the epicenter, that got doused in the flood of chronitons.”

I stand, walk over to the display.  
“We're thinking we can use this ripple, find a timeline that would have the least casualties, and push things through to the other side.”

“You want to force the Phantom back in?”  
Chakotay sounds skeptical.

Tom speaks up again.  
“But won't that suck B'Elanna, Chakotay, and Tabor in, too?”

“Not necessarily.” B'Elanna presses another key.

“That's the bio-temporal chamber we used with Kes,” the Doctor points out. “That's brilliant, B'Elanna!”

“It was the captain's idea,” she counters.

“Wait,” Harry calls. “I don't get it. That was used to flush Kes' system of the dormant particles, right? But the away team didn't get inoculated in the chaos.”

“I believe,” Tuvok replied, “that the chamber can still be used to purge them of the particles.”

“I've been looking at its designs and it should be able to.” B'Elanna crosses her arms.

The EMH nods.  
"It should."

“If we modify the deflector array, I think we can pull this off.”

“Modify it how?” Neelix asks.

“It can be modified to provide temporal shielding.” Seven turns to Tuvok. “I will require your assistance, Commander.”

Tuvok nods.

Neelix looks confused.  
“Why wouldn't the temporal shielding protect the away team from the pull of the ripple by itself?”

“The pull would be too strong. The shield will act as a dampener, but unless we purge those cells, we'll be forced out of our timeline.”

I look them all over, make sure they all understand.   
“Everyone clear? Tuvok, Seven?”

Various responses, all affirmative.

“Dismissed.”

They file out, Seven and Tuvok already exchanging ideas, B'Elanna and the Doctor discussing the purge.

“Are you alright?”  
Chakotay's strong hands massage my shoulders.

I sigh, stretch my neck.  
“Fine.”

“You left in a hurry this morning.”

I left without telling him why.  
“I know. I'm sorry. I needed air.”

His hands slide to my belly, his lips against my ear.  
“I understand. Do you want to talk about it?”

Talk about what? About how I'm still angry? About B'Elanna's grandmother and “mok'tah”? About the fact that, even if this temporal action plan works, we'll be doing this for the rest of our lives? I'm not sure I'm ready to bring another baby into it.  
“What are we going to do about Nadine?”

It's his turn to sigh.  
“I don't know. She grew up thinking she was crazy. I did that.”

“We did that,” I correct. “How is she?”

“She's fine, for now. She knows something is wrong.”

“Whose turn is it with the  _Voyager_  kids?”

“Hickman's.”  
He laces his fingers with mine. 

“I thought it was Sam Wildman's turn.”

“That's next week.”

“What's Hickman teaching them, then?”

I can feel him smile against my ear.  
“'Impersonating Your Captain, 101'.”

  
  


 

 


End file.
